


you scratch my back, i'll bite yours

by hoppnhorn



Series: oh to be young (and greek) [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Anal Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Reluctant Lovers, Scents & Smells, lots of come and mess, slightly inebriated Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14760059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoppnhorn/pseuds/hoppnhorn
Summary: Billy rushes Steve's fraternity and gets in, which sucks, only when it doesn't. Drunk Steve has a hard time staying away from what isn't good for him.





	you scratch my back, i'll bite yours

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted as a response to [a prompt](https://hoppnhorn.tumblr.com/post/174258524088/have-any-omega-frat-boy-steve-headcanons) Enjoy!

Steve is a proud omega. He doesn’t particularly  _like_  what he is but he sure as shit isn’t  _ashamed_  of himself. He doesn’t wear blockers or take suppressants either. It’s not his fault his body is  _designed_  to make alphas go absolutely apeshit. Consent is still consent and he takes absolutely  _no_  bullshit when it comes to that. He’s not a puny little boy, Steve Harrington. He’s an adult man who can give as good as he gets in a fight. Sure, he might not have a  _stellar_  win to lose ratio, but he’s not going to roll over and just let an alpha slip him a dick. Nah. When he has sex, it’s on his terms. And he will  _mate_  when he’s good and ready. Not a minute earlier. 

His sophomore year he rushes the Omega Beta Alpha frat on campus. They preach tolerance and equal treatment of alpha, beta and omega alike. They preach respect and boundaries. Brotherhood. Steve likes it there, until the next semester when Billy Hargrove rushes the same frat. 

Billy is a douchebag. But no matter what Steve says, his brothers agree to let him join. They  _like_  Billy and really, that’s just annoying. Steve can barely stand to be around someone so fucking  _cocky_  and the guy is posturing every twelve seconds. 

Steve can’t stand him. Actually, he can. He just doesn’t like admitting that he’s always  _wanted_  Billy. He’s always wondered what it would have been like if Billy hadn’t been a chicken in high school and, instead of pushing him down, had sunk his teeth into Steve’s neck and fucked him senseless. He’s dreamt about it. Fantasized actually. And maybe that’s why he  _hates_  that Billy still rolls his big, stupid tongue around in his mouth when he makes even the  _slightest_  bit of eye contact across the room. Because he wants that fat tongue in the worst way. 

Billy makes it into OBA. Steve hates him. They live in the same house and Steve does his  _best_  to steer clear of Billy because, really, the last thing he needs is his slick acting up and giving away that he’s totally  _jonesing_  for some of that alpha cock. Not just any alpha cock either, that  _Hargrove_ alpha cock and, honestly, that’s  _bad_.He stays far away. 

Until he isn’t staying away because maybe he’s a little drunk and Billy’s bedroom is only a couple doors down and  _damn_ he can smell him without even  _trying._  So suddenly he’s standing at Billy’s door and he’s knocking and Billy’s not answering and that’s  _odd_  because he could have sworn he smelled him in there. 

He opens the door, without asking, because  _drunk_  Steve doesn’t make good decisions. Drunk, horny, curious Steve is worse. 

He walks into a dark bedroom hissing for Billy while his eyes adjust and then there’s this  _scent._  It’s  _gorgeous._  Like a freaking pastry had sex with a steak and had a litter of babies  _amazing._  He barely gets inside the room before he’s stumbling to a stop and nearly tripping on a rug. The door slams behind him and he’s in  _complete_  darkness when a voice snarls, “What the actual  _fuck_  do you think you’re doing, Harrington?” 

He can’t see Billy but obviously the guy is there like some kind of weirdo, hiding in a pitch black room by himself when the rest of the house is out hitting the bars. How keg king Billy is missing out is a big  _mystery_  until suddenly it’s  _not;_  Steve gets another whiff of that amazing smell and he’s drooling on himself. He’d blame the beer but he’s not  _that_  good of a liar. 

“I thought I smelled something…” He steps towards the ambiguous location of Billy’s person and catches a glimpse of something sparkly. Billy’s earring, glinting off of some miraculous light somewhere. His eyes slowly adjust and he sees the way Billy’s pressed up against the door, like he’s  _guarding his back. “_ You okay, Hargrove?” He asks as he steps a little closer. An alarm bell is going off in the back of his head because he  _really_ doesn’t know why he’s still in  _Billy’s_  room but it’s a seriously  _bad idea_. The guy is an alpha. A piece of shit, aggressive, sexy alpha. 

“You need to go.” Billy croaks out. “Who just walks into someone else’s bedroom–”

Steve’s as hard as a rock at this point. Cock throbbing and demanding attention at the front of his jeans and it’s slowly starting to occur to him that he’s been  _hard_  the entire time. Like, the second he could smell Billy in the hallway he’d been throbbing and letting his dick lead him around like a puppet on a string so he stares down at it, thinks for a moment. He feels like there’s a fog in his head that he can’t seem to clear. 

“Jesus, what part of  _get out_  do you not understand, asshole?” 

“The part where you didn’t say  _anything_  when I knocked in the first place–” He can’t help it. He  _can’t help himself._  Billy is the source of that  _incredible_ smell and he’s only a few feet away so Steve stumbles closer, inhales, can taste that savory goodness on his tongue. “My  _god_ what is th–”

“Get  _away_  from me.” Billy growls, presses back against the door and Steve is baffled by the reaction. Billy has beaten Steve into submission before, literally. 

“Hargrove–” He’s not just confused, he’s freaked out by the role reversal. Because, at the end of the day, Steve wouldn’t hurt a fly without being provoked. But Billy’s acting like he’s a big bad alpha with his fangs out, threatening to breed him bloody. 

“I’m not some bitch who begs for dick, Harrington. Get out.” 

Steve blinks. Opens his mouth and closes it like a  _dumb_   _puppet_. 

“Me either?” He thinks aloud, slurs really. “Why would you…” Steve blinks, looks around the room. His sight is  _finally_  starting to catch up though his brain clearly hasn’t. There are bottles of water in a grocery bag on the floor and two fans blowing cold air and the blinds are nearly  _taped_ closed.”Wait.” He sees the towel discarded on the bed. Sees the tissues and wet wipes and smells the  _blocker diffuser_  that has  _clearly_ run out _. “_ Oh my  _god._ ” His train arrives at the station when he remembers his first heat at school and how nasty he’d felt when he couldn’t sneak down the hall to actually use a shower for fear of being jumped on the way. “Oh my  _god._ ” He repeats, like a moron. 

“I get it, you didn’t know I was an omega.” Billy snarls. “Doesn’t mean you’re not totally posturing by busting in here without an invitation.” 

“An omega can’t posture another omega, you idiot.” Steve grouses back, his mouth  _goddamn_  watering as another wave of Billy’s scent fills his head. “You’re lucky it was me what smelled you and not one of the alphas, I mean _lock the door next time–”_

“Wait.” Billy stands off of the door and Steve can see just how sweaty he is by the way his skin gleams, even in the dark. “You’re…an omega?” 

“Yeah?” Steve tries on Billy’s shitty tone for fun and feels a wave of validation when the guy’s head snaps back on his spine in surprise. “Not that it’s  _any_ of your goddamn  _business_ –” 

“Fucking hell, Harrington.” Billy is a  _lot_  closer now, chest rising and falling in rapid succession. “You’re not here to make me submit?” 

“Uh.” That’s about as far as his brain gets before Billy is sagging with relief and walking past him, bending down to pluck a water bottle from the bag.

“Christ, here I was thinking you were going to…” Billy unscrews the cap with a loud click and doesn’t finish the sentence because  _why would he_ when Steve is hanging on every word from his mouth.

“What? Try and knot you?” 

Billy’s shrug is somewhere between a  _duh_  and a  _maybe._

“I’m not the mating type, Harrington.” Billy announces just before he shucks his boxers to the floor, which has Steve staring wide-eyed in complete and utter  _shock_  because suddenly Billy’s dick is all he sees. There’s a  _lot_  to see. “Not gonna let some shitty alpha put his knot in me and act like he owns me.” 

Steve is still sort of struck stupid when Billy flops back on his bed, gets his hand around his cock and starts to stroke. The  _sounds_  that follow are just as bad as the visual. 

“Uh…” Steve’s brain has a short. Or something. He’s not thinking anything beyond  _holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck_ and Billy seems to know it. He opens his bedroom eyes and parts his lips and rocks his hips until Steve can smell the precome welling up at his head. 

“You gonna join me or what?” Billy asks, eyes falling  _pointedly_  at the leaping bulge in Steve’s jeans. His cock is all too happy to send a pang of  _yes please_  right to his balls. 

“Wait.” He shuffles closer, shakes his head even though he’s sobering up at an  _alarming_  rate. “You thought I was an alpha so you were going to kick me out–”

“But you’re not.” Billy moans, arching his  _fucking_  back as his hand moves faster.

“And now you’re asking me to…” Steve looks at Billy’s cock, sees the shine of slick on his balls and knows all too well that his hole will be wet. Wet and empty and  _aching_. “…fuck you?” 

“I was going to settle for a few blow jobs but sure, Harrington.” Billy sighs, opens his legs in a  _brash_  invitation. “Let’s make a night of it.” Steve blinks and wonders if maybe he’s hit his head or something and this is all just a really  _demented_  dream. “Make up your mind.” Billy grunts out. “But don’t just stand there like a  _moron._  Either participate or take a hike.” 

He takes off his pants quietly in seconds, kicks them aside and strokes his dick through his boxers before he tugs them down too. The way Billy’s eyes go wide makes him swallow hard. 

“Damn, show-er and a grower, huh?” Billy lifts his legs and Steve doesn’t need more of a cue. He leaps onto the bed and settles between Billy’s thick thighs, pushes them back further to get after the exposed, pink hole of Billy’s ass. “ _Fuck_.” Billy curses as Steve’s cock brushes over him before he aligns them and sinks in. 

It’s not unheard of for omegas to fuck each other. It’s not unheard of for omegas to get turned on by the smell of slick or the hormones of a peer. But the way Steve comes almost immediately inside of Billy borders on  _insanity._  He’s so lost to Billy’s scent and heat that he’s coming so hard he feels dizzy and Billy is clawing at his back, sinking his nails into the tender meat of his hips. 

“ _More,_  Harrington. Keep going.” 

When his vision levels out and Steve can actually  _see_  he realizes that Billy’s coming just as hard, his fist moving at blinding speed as he milks every last drop from his dick. It pools on his stomach, drips down his sides. Steve doesn’t even  _need_  to slow down before his cock is back to throbbing. 

“Jesus.” He’s never orgasmed and kept going. His dick is a traitor and usually softens the second he’s finished but there’s no time for that. Billy’s pheromones are roaring between them and Steve rises to the occasion. 

He gets Billy to completion twice before his own orgasm thunders down his spine and makes him scream with release, filling Billy with his sterile come. It’s warm and sticky and smells like sex when he collapses on Billy’s chest, gasping for air. 

“Need a water break?” Billy asks, his fingers doing something close to  _gentle_  on Steve’s spine. He grunts. 

Billy seems to take that as a yes, rolling over just a little to reach down to the floor. A second later a room temperature water bottle is being pressed to Steve’s arm and he grabs for it. Misses. Billy snickers and uncaps the thing, probably out of pity, and offers it up. 

“Gotta rehydrate you. I need at least another six more rounds.” 

“SIX?!” Steve sits up, grimaces at the way his skin had  _adhered_ to the mess on Billy’s stomach and groans. “Gross.” 

The wet wipes appear and Steve rips one free while Billy sighs, lays back on his bed with a smug smile. 

“You tellin’ me your heats don’t last twenty four hours like the rest of us?” 

Steve tosses the used wipe aside and takes a swig of water. His cock is still nestled inside Billy’s body but it’s a comforting sort of fit. Not intrusive or sexual, anymore. Warm. Cozy. 

When he starts to wipe up Billy’s stomach, the guy just watches him. 

“I was, uh, tranquilized for my last three heats.” Steve murmurs softly. Honestly, being tranq’d during your heat is something only the really  _snotty_  upperclass do and Steve  _knows_ that. He’d always quietly slipped away to a facility in the hills, pretended he was running off for a spa weekend instead of a weekend of hormone observation and sedation. “I can’t really remember how long they lasted before–”

“Don’t tranq next time.” Billy interrupts. Their eyes meet and Steve swears there’s a little glimmer of promise in them. “You helped me, I’ll help you.” Then, like his little proclamation was like loaning Steve a video game not his  _dick_ , Billy shrugs while Steve tosses aside another wipe. “Heat sex is great sex.” 

Steve lifts his weight, moves to maybe  _not_ be penetrating Billy while the guy makes him feel like the worlds dumbest  _dildo,_ when Billy is suddenly locking his legs around Steve’s hips. Holding him in place. 

“Don’t tranq next time.” He says again, this time softer. The glimmer is back, but Steve sees it for what it is. 

“Yeah.” He relinquishes with a little tilt of his lips, settling his cock back in the warmth of Billy’s embrace. “Alright.”


End file.
